


Old Habits Die Hard

by fckyeahgallavich



Series: Aevitas [6]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic, Domestic Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Fighting, Gallavich, Guilt, I'm Sorry, M/M, Making Up, Married Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Minor Violence, Parents Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, big fight, like really sorry, something may or may not be wrong with me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-08 14:51:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12256545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fckyeahgallavich/pseuds/fckyeahgallavich
Summary: Abbi witnesses her daddies fighting.





	Old Habits Die Hard

At first it was just some loud voices. Abbi lay comfortably in her bed, still snuggled under the covers exactly as Dad had tucked her in, when a loud bang made her jump.

"SON OF A BITCH!" Abbi hears, and almost feels vibrate too. Daddy's voice thunders in her ears.

"NO! FUCK THAT, MICK! WHAT THE FUCK IS-"

"GET BACK, Ian. Get the  _fuck_ back!"

They keep saying stuff like that. Using words she isn't allowed to use even though they say them a lot. Normally when she hears those words, though, they aren't angry or used against each other... Usually they make her laugh because she knows they shouldn't be saying these words. Now they are angry... And they are using them at each other. She nudges the covers off and sneaks to her bedroom door to crack open the door. She sees Dad standing with his arms crossed, leaning against a wall in the living room, glaring at Daddy who is screaming. He keeps using dirty words. Finally Dad starts screaming back, arms coming undone and he gets in Daddy's face but Daddy doesn't back away. His fingers clench and unclench.

“Ian—I swear to Christ. Get the fuck away from me, right now.”

“What're you gonna do? Gonna fuckin' hit me?” Dad challenged.

“Right now, maybe! And we know how your pansy ass does with a hit.”

“Yeah, we all know you're fine with hitting me! You've done it before!”

Daddy pauses.

“You _know_ why the fuck that happened. Because you wouldn't leave me _alone!_ Like you're doing now!" There was a pause. "Get out, get the fuck out! I don't give a shit where you go, just not here!” Abbi gasped.

“What, you think it's okay that you hit me because I wanted to _talk_ to you?”

“Not everyone wants to talk everything out right away, Ian! Go! Please fucking go!” Daddy sounded angry and sad. Dad tries to get in Daddy's face again, but Daddy puts his hand on his chest and backs away. Abbi opened the door, expecting for Dad to see it, but he didn't. He was too mad. She stepped through.

“Yeah, except if we do it your way, we _never_ talk about it! You Milkoviches just want to cover everything up, act like it never fucking happened. We _need_ to talk about this!”

“Bullshit! There is _nothing_ that we can't talk about tomorrow when you've calmed the fuck down.” Daddy breathed and was about to turn around when it seemed like something occurred to him. “And what, I'm a Milkovich again, now?” His voice was hoarse, emotional. “All of that bullshit we went through to get married just never happened because your a little pissed off at me right now?” Daddy crossed his arms protectively over himself, but he still seemed angry. His shoulders sloped though... like a deflated balloon. Dad shook his head and raised his thumb to his mouth and started chewing on the pad of his finger, he was pacing. 

“Like you ever _wanted_ to be a Gallagher. I had to practically drag you to get married—”

“ _You wanted to take us to a courthouse! Cops! Hello!_ But why are we even talking about this? You _knew_ what this was going to be like! I fucking _told_ you! And I told you this was the final time. This is it, Ian. In or out. So we can either talk about it tomorrow after you've chilled the fuck out or—” Dad took a swing at Daddy.

Daddy ducked and punched Dad in the face, sending him to the floor. He was twisting on his side to get up when Abbi screamed.

 

////

 

Mickey stopped his advance when he heard his daughter scream, his attention immediately snapping to her horrified face. Mickey didn't want to fight him... he just fell right back into that habit from his teenage years... Someone strikes at you, you strike back and make sure they don't get up for another try. Her little mouth trembled as she tried to form words, but could only point to them and then cover her mouth as she dissolved into a fit of tears. Mickey's entire body seemed to collapse on itself. He backed away from his husband and collapsed against the wall.

“Abbi? Abs!” Ian called after her as she turned to run back into her bedroom. She slammed the door as Ian reached it. He was breathing deep. “Fuck...” He turned around and leaned against her door, facing Mickey. Ian's eyes were wide as saucers as he took in the sight of Mickey. Mickey just stood frozen in his spot, leaning against the wall. His daughter just witnessed one father try to hit the other, and the other father full-out take the other down... He looked down at his hands, the tattoos glaring back at him. There was just the teeniest smudge of blood on his knuckle... Mickey felt sick.

This was _exactly_ what he always feared. Of course, in this situation he really tried to keep the argument non-violent... but still... His husband tried to hit him, and in response he actually did... And Ian had announced that he'd hit Ian before...

_Oh god..._

Ian's white face was frozen in shock, reflecting all of Mickey's thoughts right back at him. Mickey's legs gave out and he slid down the wall to the floor. He thought he was going to be sick.

Terry always aimed to turn him into a mini version of him... And it looked like it had worked.

He'd hit his husband.

The bruise was already starting to bloom under his fair skin. There would be no way to hide it, no way to fake it.

He'd hit Ian...

Tears creeped down his cheeks, but Mickey hardly noticed them. His whole body felt hot, he couldn't breathe.

“I'm... I'm going to check on her.” Ian sniffled awkwardly. Mickey didn't respond. Just sat in his spot, not moving. Allowing the weight of his guilt and self-loathing suffocate him.

 

/////

 

“Abbi?” Dad's voice called through the door. Abbi was sitting in her bed, pillow clutched to her chest. She wanted to hug either of her daddies. But... They'd hit each other.

Why would they do that? Don't they love each other? Dad always said we don't hurt the people we love. He'd said that once when she had hit Yevgeny for changing the channel when it wasn't his turn. Dad had scolded her because we don't hit people we love. Especially not over something so insignificant as the TV. So she'd lost the TV for the rest of the day and she had to apologize to and hug her brother, who also had to go do something else. 

“Abbi...” Dad stuck his head in the door. “Coming in...” He usually asked before even opening the door, but considering the circumstances, she guessed he really needed to talk to her.

He took the two steps he needed to take over to her bed and sat at the foot, crossing his legs under himself like she had hers.

“You just saw something... you really didn't need to see... Something that never should have happened... And I am _so,_ so sorry, Abbi. I really, really am.” She trembled.

“Why would you hit Daddy? Why would you hurt him? We don't hurt people we love!” Her voice was raising in hysterics as she replayed the image in slow-motion in her brain. Dad swinging at Daddy... Daddy ducking just in time and coming around the other way... his fist connecting with Dad's cheek... She thrust her face into her pillow and cried some more.

“You're right, Abbi, we don't. I really shouldn't have done that... I am so sorry I did it and I'm so sorry you saw it...” He apologized again. He sniffed so she knew he was crying too. He really was sorry, then... 

“Don't you love Daddy?” She asked through her pillow. She peeked up at him to see his face collapse.

“I love your Daddy so, so much. I love him more than just about anything in the world—”

“Then why did you hit him?” She asked fiercely, raising her head from her pillow but still not looking at him. Dad released a shaky breath. 

“You know... It's not an excuse, it's really not. But I was just really angry. I should know better, and I shouldn't have let myself get to that point, but that's all I have for an explanation.”

“But we don't hit—”

 “I know, Abbi!” Dad almost snapped. She shrank back. “I know.” He said more gently. They sat in silence.

“Did you tell Daddy you're sorry?” She asked after a weighted minute. He released a breath. 

“Not yet.” He replied gently.

“Then you need to.” She shot back. Dad nodded.

“I will. I just need you to understand something _really_ important... This does _not_ happen a lot. At all, really...”

“You said he used to hit you. I've never seen him hit you.” Her brow furrowed as she searched her memory. Daddy had been irritated with Dad, sure. Loads of times because Daddy was usually cranky, especially if lots of police officers drive through the neighborhood or if Dad tries to make Daddy do something social. Dad sighed sadly. 

“Your Daddy and I have done some things to each other that we aren't proud of... But they are far, far in our past. I shouldn't have brought it up... It's something adults do when we're angry. We shouldn't, and most of us know we shouldn't... But we do it anyway.”

“You used to hit each other?” She couldn't keep the horror out of her voice. His face scrunched up.

“No... Not like _that._ ” He hid his face behind a hand for a moment. She waited for him to explain. “You remember I told you that Daddy and I got together for the first time when we were teenagers?” She nodded. “We were angry teenagers and before we learned how to treat the people we love, we weren't always nice to each other. It wasn't often, it wasn't _that_ bad, but we still learned that it was wrong and we stopped doing it at _all_. This is the first time something even _close_ to this has happened in...” His eyes went skyward as he counted back time. “12 years.” He finally concluded. “You're right, we don't hit people we love. We don't treat people like that, period.”

“He told you to get out...” Her brow puckered again as she felt tears gathering.

“He was trying to stop the fight before it started... He was right, I should have left.” He defended.

“Why would he want you to leave?”

“Not forever. Just for an hour or at most for the night.” He explained. This concept still confused her. Why couldn't they just talk it out? Why did they have to hit each other or have one of them leave?

“What were you arguing about?” She asked. He shook his head.

 “It doesn't matter. Nothing gives you the right to hit someone you love and your Daddy and I have a _lot_ to talk about. Tomorrow. When we are all calmer.” She nodded. “It's what we should have done in the first place, and that's another thing I have to apologize to him for... I didn't listen when he asked to do that... I was too mad to listen...” She nodded again. “You do understand that this does _not_ happen, right? Your Daddy and I love each other _very_ much and we do _not_ hurt each other. This will _never_ happen again, okay?” She looked into her Dad's eyes as he said this. You can't lie if you're looking someone in the eye. And she saw the sincerity there... The regret, the love, the sadness, the honesty... She believed him and nodded one more time.

“Is it okay that I hug you?” He asked. She grinned. 

“Duh!” She laughed and stood on her bed, taking two steps towards him before collapsing into his chest. He hugged her tightly, breathing her in, she doing the same.

“I'm so sorry...” He breathed over her shoulder. 

“Tell that to Daddy,” she whispered in his ear. He stilled, then hugged her tighter and nodded. He lay her back down and pulled the covers back over her.

“Good night, Abs.” He stroked her hair which set the last bit of butterflies in her stomach at ease. “We'll have french toast tomorrow morning, okay?” She nodded excitedly. “I love you, kid.” She tossed onto her side and looked up at him.

“I love you too, Dad. Tell Daddy I love him, too?” She suggested. He nodded gently.

“I will.” He stroked her hair one more time and left her room, the door cracked, almost as though giving her a signal that nothing else negative was going to be going on in the other room.

She only heard quiet murmurings coming from the other room as she drifted off to sleep, confidence filling her, knowing her daddies would figure it out.

 

/////

 

When Ian returned to the living room, he found his husband crumbled into himself at the base of the wall, head resting against his knees, fingers tugging at his hair. His heart exploded in his chest as guilt surged through him. He tried to hit the love of his life... He swore to himself this would never happen again. He raised his fingers to the blossoming bruise on his cheek. He'd earned it. Mickey kept telling him to back off, to go away, to leave him alone. But he kept pushing. And what's worse, he kept pulling up shit from their past that didn't need to be pulled up and now their daughter knew way more than either of them had ever wanted her to know. He took baby steps over to the hunched over figure... each step like a knife sliding deeper and deeper into his ribs.

“Mick?” He mumbled. Mickey shook his head, hands clenching at his hair. “It's okay... She understands...” Mickey collapsed further into himself, becoming even smaller if that were possible, his hands tearing harder at his hair. The first of many tears trailed down his cheek at watching the hollow shell of his husband below him; clearly torn apart by what he'd done and what their child had seen.

 “Mick...”

“Don't! Just...” Mickey breathed deep, face still buried under his arms. “Don't. _Nothing_ can make that alright.” Ian sighed and kneeled in front of him. Mickey still refused to look up. Ian gently wrapped his hands around Mickey's, massaging them to try to get them to release his hair.

“Mickey... Relax. It _is_ alright.” Mickey started frantically shaking his head no. Ian more firmly held on to Mickey's hands in an attempt to make him let go. “I told her we don't do that. She gets it. She was scared, but she knows that it won't ever happen again-”

“You basically told her I used to wail on you!” Mickey hissed, finally letting go of his hair and looking at Ian, self-loathing evident on his face. Ian looked to his lap, unable to look him in the face.

“I know, and I told her about that too. That this hasn't happened since we were teenagers.” Mickey leaned his head back against the wall and shook his head vehemently.

“Doesn't matter. That doesn't matter. That will _never_ be okay. She's gonna remember that the rest of her life. She's gonna wonder if it still happens and we just are better at hiding it. She's going to wonder the rest of her life what this fight was about—”

“There's not going to be anything for her to wonder about because this is the final time this is happening.” Ian insisted fiercely. They stared at each other for a weighted moment. For once, Mickey's thoughts were completely closed off to Ian. He couldn't get a read on him. It was unsettling.

Ian grabbed Mickey's hand, the hand with the gold band resting on his ring finger. Mickey watched Ian's movements warily.

“I'm _so, so_ sorry. I should have listened to you. This wouldn't have happened if I'd just left when you asked me to. I wouldn't have swung at you... if I'd just left when you asked me to the first time...” Ian sighed. Mickey's eyes looked haunted, and Ian could practically see the event playing behind his eyes. “I'm not mad at you, Mick. I swung first.”

“I should have just taken it and told you to leave. Coulda walked away or some shit, didn't need to swing back.” Ian laughed and Mickey's brow furrowed.

“But then you wouldn't be the man I married.” Ian replied, his tone reflecting the odd affection he felt at this moment. Why the _fuck_ did he feel this glow inside of him? It made absolutely no sense but for some reason when Mickey had suggested a very out of character response... he found it amusing. Mickey's brows relaxed but the tension did not ease from his shoulders. He was still very upset with himself, Ian could feel it. “Mickey Milkovich doesn't back down from a fight, and I wouldn't expect Mickey Gallagher to be any different.” Mickey grimaced, turning his gaze away from him.

“What?” Ian asked. Mickey shook his head, brows raising. He was holding back a biting remark and was trying to avoid another fight. Ian steeled himself, leveling himself so the issue didn't escalate _again._ “Say it.” Mickey exhaled harshly.

“So I'm a Gallagher again, huh?” They stared at each other. Mickey's tension returning to an angry vibe. Ian sighed again and deflated as shame washed over him. God... He'd been a serious asshole. Not that Mickey hadn't also, but that was beside the point.

“I'm sorry...”

“That was probably the _worst_ thing you've ever said to me.” Mickey's voice was raw. Raw from anger, from hurt, from betrayal... Ian knew he'd wounded him with that. And he'd known when he'd said it... Which was why he said it. “You _know_ that was all I ever wanted. Everything with prison put it on hold, but you knew that was always my goal for us, man. Even if not legally. So—”

 “I know, Mick... I know. I'm _so_ sorry. That was a dick thing to say.” Mickey leaned back against the wall, completely relaxed this time. As he exhaled he seemed to mold his back to the wall, closing his eyes and breathing deep. He licked his bottom lip, sucking it for a second before biting down. Ian gave him a moment to cool off, choosing to play with Mickey's fingers... Laying their rings together and just watching them for no particular reason other than to remind himself that they were there. The room seemed to settle with one final deep breath from Mickey. He finally opened his eyes and also looked at their rings, glinting in the soft light from the dining room.

“She knows that I— ” Mickey started, grabbing Ian's attention. Ian stared at him, watched him struggle with the words. “That we—” He bit his lip again and he struggled with holding his emotions in check.

“She knows that we were teenagers... and angry... and didn't know how to deal with our anger.” Mickey's eyes finally met Ian's. His pupils were blown, as though he was still afraid... Afraid of what? “She knows it's been a really long time since this has happened... And I told her that you tried to prevent it, but I wasn't listening. I promised her it would never happen again and she knows that we love each other very much.” Ian watched as a tear slipped down Mickey's cheek and he resisted the urge to wipe it away. Once Mickey seemed to notice the tear himself, he looked away again and wiped it away as smoothly as possible against his shoulder. Without taking his hand back from Ian's light hold, Mickey stood up and Ian followed his lead. He looked down at this man, the man he loved more than anything in the world (tied only with Yev and Abbi). “We still need to talk... But we can do that tomorrow.” Ian finally said. Mickey looked into Ian's eyes, and seemed to study him. Ian felt as though he were fully exposed, but in a situation like this, he supposed that was good. Finally, after a long silence, Mickey nodded. Ian reached up with his left hand and cupped his partner's cheek, thumb stroking him gently. Mickey closed his eyes and breathed Ian in, reaching up with his left hand to cup Ian's cheek. He didn't stroke his face though, because this was the side he had hit. Ian was grateful for that because he just realized that side of his face was throbbing. He'd forgotten how hard Mickey Milkovich could hit! Ian let out a sputtering sigh, suddenly emotional again himself and kissed Mickey fiercely. He half expected Mickey to throw him off because of the circumstances, but luckily Mickey pulled him in closer by his waist.

“I love you...” Mickey breathed against Ian's lips, eyes opening to meet Ian's. Ian grinned down at the shorter man and touched his forehead to his.

“I love you, too.” They kissed another moment before Mickey finally took a step back. Ian let him go. 

Just because everything was okay right this second, didn't mean that Mickey didn't still feel some aggression or irritation. Ian still felt a little of that himself though for right now it was covered by relief that they were getting along at the moment. Mickey squeezed Ian's shoulder and turned to the kitchen where his smokes were waiting. He followed him hesitantly, wondering if he wanted to be left alone. When Mickey didn't say anything or look irritated that he'd followed, he pulled up a chair next to where Mickey sat at the head of the table, his usual smoking spot. He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. Ian was a little surprised when Mickey passed it to him. He'd quit a year ago, but after the night he'd had... Fuck it. 

He inhaled deeply, his lungs surprisingly accepting the smoke and nicotine easily. They sat in a calm silence that wasn't uncomfortable, didn't need to be filled. They split the cigarette and when Mickey pulled out the second, he started to pass it to Ian, but he refused. Mickey nodded and took another hit.

"I don't want to wake her up but..." Ian looked at him. Mickey had aged by ten years, his face drawn and eyes bleak. Ian sighed.

"Don't. It's late." Mickey's eyes fluttered closed in irritation and he nodded, taking another pull on the cigarette. After another moment of silence, Ian finally spoke again. 

"We'll have a talk together as a family tomorrow. And then you and I will talk when she's at school." Ian suggested. Mickey laid his head back against the top of the chair and nodded.

"What about work?" Mickey sounded resentful.

"I'll tell them I had a family emergency, they'll be fine. Someone is probably on call." Ian replied gently. Mickey nodded again and finished off the cigarette with a hard pull. He sat there watching Mickey just stare at the ceiling for a good minute before Ian finally stood up, grabbing Mickey's attention.

"Coming to bed or is one of us banished to the couch?" Ian hoped it was a joke. He'd said it as a joke, but it all kind of depended on where Mickey went with it. They looked at each other and the longer they looked, the softer Mickey's eyes became. His shoulders started to relax, his eyes roved Ian's face and warmth flowed through Ian's body at the attention. It started in his core and spiraled up into his heart and down into his groin.   

Now, Ian didn't know about Mickey... but that electricity...

That was the one thing that had never changed about them. They were always drawn together. Even with kids running around they always made time for each other so that they never felt anything lacking in their physical connection. But he didn't want to go there, not tonight. Even if his body told a different story, they had way too much to talk about to just fuck their problems away. They'd just end up coming back with a vengeance which, in truth was why they were in this mess to begin with. 

Any time he'd tried talking to Mickey about this before they'd end up arguing and being pulled together by that damned connection. Any time they were mad at each other they'd just take it out on each other in bed and never speak of it again. Obviously, that was not a solution and something they'd have to change. For now, he just wanted to have a peaceful sleep with his husband in his arms. He held his hand out to him, fully expecting him to refuse, but surprisingly Mickey put his hand in his and they quietly entered their bedroom, closing the door as quietly as possible.

They simply climbed into bed not even bothering to undress. At first, they faced each other and just looked at each other, both looking regretful, sad, and anxious. But in love. That was the most important part. When Mickey's eyes finally closed, Ian wrapped his arm over his waist and pulled him into him and Mickey went easily.

 

/////

 

Abbi found her daddies the next morning curled up into each other. She smiled at the sight. She didn't get her french toast because they'd overslept, but she was okay with that. Both of her daddies were home and they'd slept in the same bed last night. That was what mattered.

They talked about everything together as a family. Daddy apologized and apologized and apologized until Dad finally put his hand on his shoulder to shut him up. Abbi kept telling him it was okay as long as they didn't do it anymore and they promised. 

They even pinky swore. You can't break one of those so she knew they were telling the truth that they wouldn't do it ever again.

Daddy had to explain to her that it was really important that this stay with them, that she didn't tell anyone. Not friends, not a teacher, not even Yevgeny.

"Why can Yevgeny not know?" Abbi asked. It wasn't as though she was  _wanting_ to tell her brother, it just struck her as odd that she wasn't allowed to. Daddy breathed roughly.

"Because then he might tell Svetlana and you remember when she wouldn't let Yev come over for a while because he got teased at school because of us?" Abbi frowned and nodded. It had taken Daddy three month to convince Yev's mom to let him visit again, and even then it was just over weekends. Dad was sad, though he tried not to show it. Daddy was angry and every time that he was supposed to be here but wasn't, he smoked a lot of cigarettes and got really quiet. "Well, I don't want that to happen again for  _anything_. And this would actually give her a pretty good reason." Abbi nodded and bit her lip. It felt wrong to keep a deliberate secret from Yev, even if it was something she wasn't planning on sharing anyway, but Daddy was right. It was really sad when Yev wasn't allowed to come over and she'd missed her brother a lot. It was weird only being able to see him at school and she didn't want that to happen either. At her nod, her daddies nodded too and released heavy breaths together.

"If you ever need to talk to us about this or anything at all, just go ahead and tell us. We don't want you worrying about anything so if you have a question or need to talk this out more just let us know." Dad said gently.

"You apologized?" She asked them. They looked at each other and nodded. "You talked?" 

"Not yet," Dad said. "We're going to work it out while you're at school and when you get back everything is going to be back to normal, okay? No more hitting, no more yelling, I promise." She made eye contact with both of them, reading the looks on their faces before accepting that answer. "You can still talk to us about it if you need to. But if you don't, let's just put it behind us. After today, we shouldn't have to talk about it unless you need to." She nodded again.

"Put your bowl in the sink, please." Daddy directed, standing up from the table and taking a sip from his coffee. She did as he asked and ran back to Dad for a big hug just like every morning. He had her backpack ready and helped it onto her shoulders even though she was more than capable. Dad stopped her before she ran off though, and handed her a five dollar bill. He grimaced at what that bill represented and she remembered that she'd woken her parents so they neither of them ever had time to make her lunch like they always did. She returned the grim look but thanked him.

Daddy walked her outside just as the bus rolled up. She hugged him hard and even though he usually didn't like hugging in front of people, he leaned down and accepted it, hugging her back.

"Love you, squirt." He whispered into her ear and kissed her on the cheek. She giggled and kissed his cheek back.

"Love you too, daddy!" She ran to the bus and got on quickly but couldn't sit to where she could watch daddy disappear in the distance like she usually liked to because all of the seats were taken.

She took her seat and tried to replace the memories from last night with the usual things she thought about: class, recess, what was on the school lunch menu today since Daddy didn't have time to make her one this morning... 

They pinky swore that this would never happen again, and she was willing to accept it and forget, so long as it never did.

**Author's Note:**

> What were they fighting about? Fuck if I know but whatever it was it brought out some past grievances and made Ian REAAAAAAAALLY mad.
> 
> Don't forget to tip your fanfic writer! :)  
> We accept Kudos and constructive comments! <3


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